


death at his fingertips

by phix27



Category: Curse Workers Series - Holly Black, Haikyuu!!
Genre: Also this is really obscure so... yeah., Curse Workers AU, Death, I'll add more as I go along, M/M, animal death (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 19:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6484018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phix27/pseuds/phix27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukishima has known he was a death worker since he was six.  He's known he was a monster for just as long.  So he keeps his glasses on, his hands covered, and his secret tucked away.  But emotion workers have a strange way of ruining all of that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	death at his fingertips

The first time Tsukishima death worked, he was six and didn’t understand what had happened.

A stray cat had wandered by, limping and missing an eye.  It was the most pitiful thing he’d ever seen.  He was just a baby himself, but he knew this cat couldn’t last long on the streets.  He assumed it didn’t like people, at first anyway, but he coaxed it carefully with a piece of cheese and a soft voice.  It took an hour, but he was nothing if not patient. 

Finally it took a small bite of cheese from his fingers, letting Tsukki feed it from the palm of his hand.  His other tentatively ran down its back, but the gloves he always wore prevented him from feeling the soft fur.  So he looked around, and upon realizing he was alone, took it off.

The air felt strange on his skin, not something he was used to.  The fur felt even stranger.  He knew cats were supposed to be soft and fluffy, at least he assumed so, but the fur was coarse, matted and dirty.  It wasn’t pleasant to touch, but this was a living, breathing creature under his bare hand and it was too new and exciting to be anything but amazing. 

The cat meowed softly, arching into his touch once before settling down on the ground.  Tsukki sat down next to it, even though the sidewalk would get his pants dirty and his mother hated that.  But he was so consumed by the feeling of the fur, the small patches of skin that were exposed, that he was willing to risk her wrath.

Looking back, he assured himself that the cat was going to die anyway.  Its breathing was labored, or at least, that’s what he thought.  And it was hurt and missing an eye and was so frail- and, and, and.  He could go on and on, but it didn’t change the outcome.  It didn’t change what he could do, what he was. 

He remembers thinking at the time that he wished he could make the cat better.  That he wished the cat would stop being in pain.  The chest was rising and falling beneath his hand and the fur was course and thick and matted and it was a disgusting, raggedy cat but he adored it, he never wanted to let go and he wanted to take it home and make it all better, wanted to make it _better_ , and then-

And then he realized it wasn’t breathing any more.

It took him a long time to realize what had happened.  At first, he didn’t believe the cat had died.  And then, Tsukki thought, it must have died from natural causes. 

That’s what he thought, at least, until he realized his vision wasn’t perfect anymore.  Everything was slightly blurry.  And yeah, that might have been coincidence- but blowback always came in different ways, they said.  You could never predict it, they said.

And then he’d killed another stray cat.  And a friend’s hamster.  And his vison kept getting worse and worse. 

All he’d wanted to do was feel the soft fur beneath his palm, to feel the heartbeat of another creature against his own, to breathe in sync with something. 

And Tsukishima knew what he was: a monster.

Some pro-working advocates might say that it’s natural- he couldn’t control it, it’s part of his biology.  But that wasn’t true, because his parents weren’t workers and neither was his brother or anyone he knew, so why him?  And why, out of everything, did it have to be… that?

Of course, he didn’t tell anyone.  Even though he should have, could probably have trusted Akiteru with it, and his parents should have known but how do you admit you were a monster, a danger, to your own family? 

He got glasses after a while, knowing he couldn’t manage without any more.  And in a way, it was a punishment.  Every time he’d look in a mirror, he’d know what he’d done.  He’d see a reminder of the monster that he was inside. 

Tsukishima could never forget the weight of the glasses on his face, could never forget the animals he had hurt, unintentional or not, and he could never forget the responsibility he held in his hands.

He never took his gloves off again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! Thanks for reading it- I know this is an obscure AU so I'm not expecting much. But if you find a new series from this then hey, I'm not mad! 
> 
> I don't know how often I'll update it and I'm a little confused on what my plot... actually is... so if you have some feedback or ideas, feel free to shoot them at me!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! As always, kudos are appreciated and comments are loved.


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